You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This
by LSMunch
Summary: You shouldn't kiss me like this.Unless you mean it like that.'Cause I'll just close my eyes.And I won't know where I'm at.We'll get lost on this dance floor.Just spinnin' around...


A/N: Not mine. And song belongs to Toby Keith.

* * *

You shouldn't kiss me like this 

Unless you mean it like that

'Cause I'll just close my eyes

And I won't know where I'm at

We'll get lost on this dance floor

Just spinnin' around

And around, and around, and around

They're all watching us now

They think we've fallin' in love

They'll never believe we're just friends

'Cause when you kiss me like this

I think you mean it like that

And if you do, baby, kiss me again

* * *

They had been there for a couple hours now. Cragen had left only minutes before, something about a meeting with the Brass in the morning. Wouldn't do to look like he'd been up all night. They'd all said goodbye, and returned to their drinks. John hadn't noticed the Captain's departure, as he had had a few more drinks than the rest of them. Perfectly understandable, as it was his case that had just been won. And not just any case, one of the heartbreakers, one of them that just gets too close. In the end, the victim wound up dead, after all those months John spent with her, talking with her, reassuring her. That was partly what got the bastard that did it. For some insane reason, he was out on bail, something John still hadn't quite forgiven the judge for, and he had killed her. That was highly provable witness tampering and the ticket to have his bail revoked, something John felt wouldn't have been necessary if the judge had done his job correctly. 

When the jury returned a guilty verdict, John had been there and later, when he and Casey returned to the squad room, flush with victory, Cragen had suggested that they all call it an early day and head out to the local bar. All had readily agreed, grabbing coats and hats and whatever else and leaving en masse. It should be said here that John wasn't quite as flush as Casey when they returned to the squad room. He was dwelling on the fact that not only had the bastard raped her, but then he had to go back and kill her. The second of which never would have happened if it weren't for that judge. He had half a mind to confront the portly man and ask whose pocket he was in, as he had asked of Judge Kevin Beck during the Sarah Logan case. He would have paid any fine, sat in the lock-up, he didn't care, he just had to know. But, nonetheless, he accompanied the rest of them to the bar, thinking that maybe he could drown those thoughts for the moment, then go home, pass out, and have a good night's sleep for once.

That is precisely what he proceeded to do, the others not questioning him as they had been witness to the little pain he allowed to be seen. They all knew what it was like to have a hard case, and even if you won, you still felt pretty much like crap. All of them had been there, even Casey, so no questions were asked.

At the moment, John was feeling good, listening to the music, contemplating (not very seriously) the meaning of the words. So far, they remained a mystery, but it didn't bother him too much. Then an idea starting to worm it's way through his intoxicated brain. An idea, that once it finally dawned fully on him, sounded pretty damn good. Getting up, he made his way slightly uneasily to where Olivia was sitting. Looking down at her, unaware of the looks he was receiving from his partner and her partner, he asked, "May I have this dance?" The five words came out slightly slurred, but he didn't notice.

Olivia smiled at her drunken colleague. If they had been at the bar for any other reason, the sight of John slurring words and a happy sort of oblivious smile across his face would have warranted a Kodak moment if she ever saw one. Instead, she found herself feeling bad for the older man. As if dealing with corpses for more than twenty years wasn't enough, he had to deal with living victims now, living victims that tore him up inside, just as they tore everyone up. She got up and said, "Yes, you may."

Elliot and Fin exchanged amused glances as John took Olivia's hand and led her out. The two men, accompanied by Casey, watched as John, usually quite graceful, blundered across the floor, Olivia in tow. They both seemed to be having a time of it, though, so they kept their comments at a minimum, laughing as the older detective nearly fell, saved only by Olivia's quick thinking and an unsuspecting table. He was up again in moments, twirling Olivia around, his goofy grin still in place. When the song ended, however, they kept dancing. This time, the song was slow and John was much better at simply holding Olivia around the waist and stepping back and forth a few times, though he did stumble once or twice. Elliot and Fin went back to their conversation, having lost interest now that John wasn't prancing about the floor, generally making a fool of himself.

Standing as close as he was to the female detective, John found himself watching her, almost studying. His alcohol drugged mind didn't remember doing anything like that before, but he had. A sober John often caught himself looking at Olivia more than was necessary. Glancing at her desk, watching her work, watching her and Elliot joke around... sometimes he felt as if he were stalking her, though he knew he wasn't. Other times he felt like some sort of voyeur, watching her as he did. He felt as if he shouldn't be watching the parts of her life that he did. They were her moments, and he felt that his presence ruined them sometimes. But she never said anything, and he wondered if she even knew.

The song was about to end and if possible, she was more beautiful than she had ever been in his eyes. She looked up at him and that's when the second epiphany of the night dawned on him.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers.

Shocked, Olivia stood there, not responding. After a moment, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. "John," she said, slightly breathless. "You shouldn't-"

"You smell good," he interrupted, not hearing what she was saying.

"John, I think it's time you go home."

"Will you come with me?"

"I think Fin should take you home."

"But I love you."

She had pulled away from him and was now looking at the helpless man before her. "Fin should take you home," she repeated. Taking his hand, "C'mon." They made their way back to the table, and the two men looked up to find two different people standing at their table. "Fin, I think it's time you gave John a lift home."

"Uh, sure." He stood, grabbed his coat and turned to Elliot and Casey. "See ya tomorrow." They nodded, said goodbye and watched as Fin got John's coat and helped his partner into it. The younger man helped his partner outside where the cold air hit John like a brick wall.

"Where we goin'?"

"Home. Time for you to call it a night."


End file.
